Another Brick in the Wall
by Robotic Ghosts
Summary: Al spends his 6th year of Hogwarts in the past. What sucks is he accidentally gets the totally wrong girl to fall for him and somehow lands himself in a huge rivalry... with his sixteen year old dad. And he may mess up the Space Time Continuuum.
1. Chapter 1

_Hey! This is my first fanfiction in years and I'm excited to be back :)_

_Warnings: Some foul language including f-bombs (not enough for the M rating, though), some character death and/or bashing (I haven't planned ahead, but those two tend to naturally come out eventually), and, probably most importantly: My ALBUS SEVERUS POTTER is not a nice, sensitive boy like Harry. He's a bit of an ass. _

_I have a theory that Al would grow up to outwardly enjoy his Golden Boy status, but inwardly resent it. He's not a prankster, but more of a "background" type of rebel without a cause. Minus the cliches, hopefully. _

_Enjoy!_

_(P.S. This'll be short because I only have 20 minutes before class.)_

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><p><span>Chapter One<span>

_Hey You_

The last thing he remembered was a high-pitched whine and then... nothing. Just darkness and the feel of cold stone beneath him. He considered himself a reasonable sort of guy- one that could puzzle his way out of most fixes or at least acknowledge _how_ he had gotten into one. But it was like his mind was wiped clean and all he could feel was a vague sense of the world around him flipping.

He slowly opened his eyes, though it took enormous effort.

From what he could tell, he was at Hogwarts. But it wasn't really Hogwarts, if that makes any sense. It was like a string, tying him and giving him a place in the world, had been severed and replaced with some weaker, less tangible.

"Harry?" a voice called from above. His vision still hadn't focused and he could only see a vague blur of the girl standing over him. "Oh, God, Harry, are you alright?"

His brow furrowed and he concentrated on locating the distantly familiar voice.

"Who got my stick?" he mumbled in a daze, holding his hands to his head.

"Oh, God! He's gone mental!" Another voice wailed. "Hermione, did you see what happened? And we _swore_ we would look after him after he was so torn up about Sirius! And look! Now he's tried to off himself!"

He saw that the overexcited voice belonged to a young red-headed boy that seemed to be on the verge of a breakdown. The one tossing around familiar names.

_Sirius Black_, he recalled.

"Harry," the girl said, leaning over him and gently helping him to stand up. Her big fluffs of hair got in his nose and his eyes burned when he realized that every movement resulted in sharp bursts of pain. "Be careful. Oh, _Harry._ What happened?"

"What do you _mean_ what happened? Can't you see what's right in front of you? Oh, maybe we should get Dumbledore... or Fred and George. They're funny. They could cheer Harry a bit so maybe-"

"Stop calling me Harry," he replied sullenly, cutting off the red-head. "And for Chrissakes, shuddup for a moment, will ya?"

The girl pulled back in surprise. "That's not Harry."

"'S what I said, yeah?" He let out a loud groan and stretched his arms over his head. "Nasty fall." He glanced up and saw some of the familiar stairs slowly shifting above him. "How though, did I even get here?"

"Um... I'm Hermione Granger," the girl said, sticking out her hand. "I don't suppose... Are those Slytherin robes? You're not a student, are you?"

"Can't be," the red-head added in. "We've certainly never seen him and he's about our age."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, you guys are really funny. Is that why you're calling me Harry? Role-play or something?" He turned to the other boy. "And I bet you're Ron, yeah?"

"Hermione's" look turned more puzzled than anxious, like the boy in front of her was a game that she had to figure out in order to be satisfied. The look sent a chill down his spine.

"Holy shit," he whispered. He felt a grin spread over his face before he could stop it. "No way."

"Ron, Hermione?" An eerily familiar voice called from above. "What are you guys doing? Are you okay?"

Albus Severus Potter slowly glanced up. And there, standing high with that old look of concern on his face, was sixteen year old Harry Potter.


	2. Chapter 2

Part Two so long overdue!

I'm enjoying myself with this story, I really am.

So... R&R and if anyone wants to be my beta-reader, lemme know, because I desperately need one.

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><p>The Hospital Wing hadn't changed much over the years. Al himself wasn't really a frequent inhabiter, but James always seemed to end up there after a Quidditch game. James wasn't necessarily a good player, but he was a beater on the team because:<p>

a) he could be as scary as fuck if he wanted to be and

b) his father was Harry Potter.

Al wasn't on the team. Lily was supposed to be trying out this year to be a Chaser, and she would probably freaking get it, too. Al couldn't stand that stuff. It seriously made him feel ill sometimes, though he never admitted his disgust out loud to anyone. Sometimes Rose understood. Sometimes Scorpius.

"Here you go, love," the nurse woman said, shoving a potion in his hand. Madame Pomfrey, she had introduced herself. A good-looking woman, for the older type. A bit plump. He would say she was about forty-something here, which means in the future she was... Aw, hell. He didn't feel like doing the math.

He had already gotten a look at Professor McGonagall as she hurried him to the wing, and God, that brought back some memories. He missed her a bit, of course, but he couldn't help remembering how many times she sent him to detention for being an on-looker to James and Fred's dumbass pranks.

"Thanks," Al replied, taking it gingerly and flashing her his best boyish grin. He liked to think that, with his hair a little long (and way neater than his dad's, thank God) and his contacts, that he had an almost aristocratic look about him. Sure made the female teachers go easy on him back home. Not to mention his Aunt Hermione and Aunt Fleur.

Speaking of which...

The young witch with the abominably bushy hair was seated at the side of his bed, though she maintained a safe distance. He was feeding her some bull, but she didn't seem to be buying his story yet. Couldn't blame her. Al wasn't at his best after supposedly falling down from 100 feet.

"So..." she said with a little frown. "You're a... transfer student."

"Yep," he replied. He took a sip of the potion and winced. "Shit. The stuff tastes like... well," he grinned. "Shit."

Young-Hermione didn't appear to like his vulgarity. Or at least she ignored it. "And what's your name?"

"Al, though I don't see how it's any of your business," he said and rolled over onto his side to get a better look at her. "Why so curious, Hermione?"

She blushed a little and couldn't quite seem to meet his eyes. Al tried not to feel nauseous and reminded himself to turn down the charm while talking to his freaking _aunt_.

"I've got to go. I'm late for class." She gathered her books and turned towards the door. Before she left, she gave him one last look. "And... you're in Slytherin?" she asked, with a touch of disappointment in her voice.

He shrugged. "All the most interesting ones are."

"Hmm." And she disappeared.

Al laughed lightly to himself. Sure, this was a hell of a situation to be in, but he might as well have some fun. He was sure interested in chatting with his dad a bit.

A thought dawned on him. "Maybe I can see Snape."

Madame Pomfrey turned to him and gave him a look of surprise. "Of course you will, hon. He's your Head of House, isn't he?" Her voice took on a slightly more cool tone as she eyed his green robes with distaste.

Ah, Al thought to himself. So that's how it is.

* * *

><p>Harry sat in Dumbledore's office, his thoughts completely occupied with the appearance of his... clone. Twin. The boy with Lily Evan's eyes, the one who even his closest friends mistook for Harry himself.<p>

Dumbledore was seated behind his desk, looking off into the distance, while Harry simultaneously avoided looking at the professor's blackened hand and trying to puzzle out a way where Harry's clone could be just a simple coincidence.

"Do you know who he is, Professor?" he finally asked, unable to wait any longer. "The guy who... who looks like me."

"I haven't had a chance to speak with him myself, Harry," Dumbledore reminded him with a smile. "But I do have a few guesses."

Harry looked at his feet and could feel his face starting to turn red. "Do you think it's my dad?" he blurted.

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "What makes you say that?"

"Well," Harry said in a great rush. "I mean, he looks like me, except maybe a bit larger. And Dad was always up to tricks and time turners were still around back when he was in school, right? So maybe he wanted to see what the future is like."

"Hmm... what about the Slytherin robes?"

Harry wouldn't be deterred. "It could be his idea of a joke, sir, or maybe he was trying to stay inconspicuous so he wouldn't get in trouble."

Dumbledore nodded slowly as he took in Harry's words- as well as the desire and hope on the boy's face. "And the green eyes?"

"W-what?"

"If your friends were so convinced that the stranger was you, I assumed it would have been because he had similarly colored green eyes."

"Yeah," Harry said, deflating. "Yeah, he did have those. I can't see why Dad would change his eyes." He glanced up at the professor. "So he's just some kid then?"

Dumbledore was looking at the door expectantly. "I assume we'll puzzle it out soon enough."

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><p>Al had snuck out when Pomfrey's back was turned and dodged his way through the empty halls. There was something distinctly <em>different<em> about the school. Of course, it was pre-war time, so the memorials hadn't been built yet. Al found himself looking for the "Harry Potter Wing", but of course that wouldn't be there.

Al smiled. It was cool, like walking in an old history book.

"Mr. Potter," a deep voice said with a hint of a drawl. "Out of class, I see."

Al's arms erupted in goose-bumps as he turned to face the dark figure of Severus Snape. He almost wanted to fangirl-squeal (like Lily and Rose did whenever they saw pictures of their favorite singers or Muggle actors), but he took a deep breath and tried not to look too star-struck.

"Hello," he squeaked. (And then cringed when he realized he sounded like a ferret or something.)

Snape raised an eyebrow and stepped closer. When he examined Al closer, his brows furrowed. "Why... are you wearing a Slytherin robe?"

"Well... um..."

"And..." he squinted into Al's face and something like recognition flashed across his face. "You aren't-"

Al couldn't contain himself anymore. He grabbed Snape's hand and gave it a firm shake. "It's an honor to meet you, sir. A real honor."

Snape's lips curled back in disgust. "What are-"

"Ah, Severus." A voice interrupted and out from the Headmaster's doorway came Al's dad with an old bloke. Who could only be...

"Albus Dumbledore," Al whispered.

The man gave Al a bright smile before turning his attention back to his colleague. "I see you've met our newest... transfer student, was it?" He glanced at Al's robe and Al swore he could almost see a twinkle in the old hero's eye. "And in your house, I see."

"Transfer student?" Snape repeated. "From where, might I ask?"

Harry stepped closer, eager to here the answer.

Al's brain raced. Could you go to Azkaban for accidental-illegal time-travelling?

"Erm... Russia?"


End file.
